


Bound

by Madisuzy



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Swearing, Turks - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 16:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6016600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madisuzy/pseuds/Madisuzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rufus wakes up in a bit of a bind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kickcows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickcows/gifts).



> Prompt was Rufus blindfolded, from the lovely kickcows. I wanted to give you smut, but I failed. I hope you enjoy this little tale anyway and that it cheers you up a little.

***.***

Startling awake, Rufus is honestly frightened at first to find himself bound and blindfolded, his limbs pulling at his bindings but finding no slack. He manages to calm down as his mind fully awakens, forcing his muscles to relax as he steadies his breathing and tries to think.

The last thing he remembers is going to sleep, in his own bed.

He’s definitely not there now, as he’s upright and tied to some type of chair, wood he would guess. It’s hard and uncomfortable, and his bindings are rough and irritating against his skin. The floor beneath his feet is cold and hard, concrete maybe but it’s hard to tell with only the soles of his feet for clues.

It’s only then he realizes he’s still dressed in what he went to bed in. Just baggy long silk pants and no shirt. His body starts to feel the cold, skin prickling as he starts shivering in reaction, his breaths speeding up as he tries to stay calm.

Rufus hates being exposed, even if it is only from the waist up, as it always leaves him feeling too vulnerable. He’s not a physically strong person and doesn’t want to be judged solely on his appearance when he finds it so lacking. 

A sudden touch has him freezing in place as fingers card into his hair from behind, far too gently. Rufus is stunned, wanting to demand whoever is doing it to stop, but his words won’t come when his breath is stuck in his chest.

It takes him too long to realize he can move his head away a little at least, but when he jerks his head forward, tucking his chin to his chest, those fingers just follow. A palm joins the fingers in his hair to hold his head forward and as the pressure increases, the breath is forced out of his chest. It comes out as a gasp, far too loud in the quiet of the room, and Rufus’ cheeks heat instantly at how wrong it sounds. 

The hand then suddenly disappears, but before Rufus can even feel any relief, there are fingers on the back of his neck. They’re gentle, just resting there… and he risks lifting his chin a little so he can at least breathe more freely. He’s just starting to get his breathing back under control when those fingers start moving again, creeping around one side of his neck so very slowly. 

Rufus stiffens in place again, heartbeat speeding up as a second set of fingers touch the back of his neck and mirror the movement of the first set. Eventually, they stop on each side of his Adam’s apple and then there’s the press of palms on the side of his neck and the feel of thumbs on the back near his spine. 

Ever so slowly, the hands on either side of his neck start to tighten.

Rufus can’t help but panic, but with no option of movement he simply ends up jerking in place, a whimper escaping him unchecked as the fear of strangulation rises… but then the grip of the hands pauses.

The hold is firm enough to be uncomfortable, but doesn’t yet obstruct his breathing. He swallows and feels his Adam’s apple nudge against the tips of the digits, but the hold stays the same. Rufus’ mind starts to race through possibilities only to be distracted by the realization that it’s not bare skin against him, but leather… some kind of gloves. The revelation has him biting his bottom lip.

He’s been kidnapped before, a few times, but he’s never been taken from his own apartment. Never been physically threatened or touched… and he has no idea how to handle this when he can’t even see who he’s dealing with. Mind racing, he finally remembers that he does still have the ability to speak, and as it’s usually his strongest skill, he pushes down his fear and uncertainty and starts with something simple.

“What do you want?” 

Rufus’ question manages to come out level, his voice not betraying his emotional turmoil. The two hands upon him do not move though and there is no answer. The more Rufus listens, the louder the silence seems to get, only the buzz of electric lights audible. His own breaths are too loud, getting faster as his heart continues to race.

Ideas start slipping into place quickly, the adrenaline finally helping instead of hindering as his logic kicks in. He’s been trained for this, eons ago when still a child, but still… he remembers some of it. Getting them talking is a possible way of redirecting his captors actions and besides, at this point, what does he have to lose?

“You’ve taken a huge risk, so there must be something you want. After all, if all you wanted was me dead, you could have achieved that when I was still unconscious.”

One of the fingers holding his neck twitches, a tiny movement but it’s something. Rufus feels a swell of confidence from the small reaction and breathes in deeply, trying to gather his courage to push harder.

He’s just about to speak again when something suddenly covers his mouth.

It startles him so much that he jerks backwards on instinct, the hands around his neck tightening as what he vaguely recognizes as a third hand, this time bare, presses hard over his mouth. Rufus can only suck in air through his nose now, and the shock that there’s more than one other person here has him failing completely to hold his calm façade.

“Shhhh,” a voice hisses, too close to one ear, but at least this time, Rufus manages to contain the urge to flinch away from it. While the hands on his neck are holding firmly, the fingers are not pressing into his windpipe. Instead they seem to be just holding him in place, and the realisation helps Rufus to slowly still his panic and start to think again.

Remembering the kidnapping training he had as a child, he runs through his lessons in his head, but the longer he does, the worse he feels. All of it was based on him being a damn child, and most of the strategies are useless in this situation. For example, a captor might feel sympathy for a crying child, but Rufus is sure his tears would be useless here, even if he could manage to push some out. 

He’s still trying to think up some option of action when the hand over his mouth slowly lifts away. Rufus takes the opportunity to breathe in deeply, forcing his body to relax and not stiffen against the hold on his neck in the hopes of not aggravating the situation. Just having his mouth uncovered seems like enough of a relief in the moment… until something is pushed against his lips.

He tries to jerk backwards, by the hands on the side of his neck hold him firmly and all he can do is pull his lips tightly closed as the object presses in harder. It’s smooth, rounded, and he wishes to all the gods he usually ignores that he could simply see right now what the fuck it was.

Rufus hears an exhale of frustrated breath, but he refuses to open his mouth.

A moment later, a hand grabs his crotch and as he yelps in reaction, the object slips past his lips.

At first Rufus is so busy panicking that he registers little else amongst trying to shove it back out of his mouth with his tongue. That hand is back over his mouth though, holding it in place, and eventually when he realises it’s too big to go any further in, his brain finally registers what it is and he stills.

Rufus can’t stop the growl that escapes him. He knows what a ball gag is, even if he’s never had the displeasure of experiencing one before, and he’s insulted that someone would use one on him.

The hands on his neck begin to creep upwards, gripping under his jaw and pulling his head to tilt back as far as it will go. Rufus doesn’t fight the movement. His wounded pride just isn’t strong enough to risk getting his neck broken over.

Tied, blindfolded and gagged as he is now, it’s not like he has any other options but to cooperate anyway. His head is still being held, and he can feel the heat of the person behind him now, the top of his head resting against what he guesses is their stomach.

It’s firm, which is not a good thing in the circumstances. A toned captor is logically more likely to be a professional, which means there’s a high chance this is all going to end very badly.

The thought is numbing, cooling off his previous panic. He relaxes in place to ease the strain on his neck and the hands holding his head take up the weight and support him. They’re being gentle again, and as Rufus wonders why, the thumbs of both hands start to slowly rub circles on his scalp.

It’s oddly calming, despite everything. Rufus is so mentally worn out already that he lets the movement lull his mind into stillness.

“Good boy.”

Rufus tenses at the voice… the all too familiar voice.

“Seriously, you’re hopeless when it comes ta him,” another voice drawls, interrupting Rufus’ stunned state. “Just when it was gettin’ good too.”

Rufus growls, loudly, as he can’t verbalize his extreme displeasure in any other way with the ball gag still in place. The chuckle from the person his head is leaning against does nothing to cool his ire.

“There was a point to this, Rufus,” Tseng murmurs, his hands still holding gently, thumbs still circling. “And I’m not untying you until you can tell me what it was.”

Rufus growls again, because he obviously can’t say anything with the gag still in place and Tseng’s condescending tone is not even slightly funny.

“Hmm, since you’re not going to cooperate, I’ll suppose we’ll just have to keep you tied up,” Tseng continues, his voice so very calm and laced with fake regret. Rufus has never wanted to punch Tseng before… it’s a first he could do without.

“Ya seriously gonna poke the bear?” Reno asks.

Tseng’s next chuckle is deep and devious.

“I didn’t mean literally poke, ya pervert,” Reno insists, but he’s failing dismally to hide his own amusement. “Although… okay yeah, bad choice of words. But seriously, I’d like to survive the day, ya know?”

“A lesson is a lesson, Reno,” Tseng replies, leaning in close to add in Rufus’ ear, “Rufus, if you’d have listened to me in the first place, you wouldn’t be here now. My patience only goes so far and now you know how far that is.”

Tseng pushes Rufus’ head back upright and pulls off the blindfold. Rufus blinks into the brightness of the room, his eyes adjusting slowly to find Reno leaning against the wall before him, smirk far too wide.

“’Morning, Sir,” the redhead mumbles, before lighting the cigarette between his lips. Rufus makes an unimpressed sound, as Reno knows he’s not supposed to smoke anywhere near him. The redhead breathes in deep, eyes closing before he exhales the smoke up towards the vent in the ceiling. As his eyes open again, he smirks at Rufus again. “Figured if ya gonna kill me later anyway, might as well go all out.”

“Good point,” Tseng adds, walking around from behind Rufus and heading over to Reno. As he approaches, Reno holds out the cigarette and Tseng leans in, taking hold of Ren’s wrist with one gloved hand as he takes a deep inhale from between the redhead’s fingers.

Rufus has to look away. Tseng’s always had a way of moving that distracts him, makes him think of things he shouldn’t. The urge to glance back is strong, making him wish he was still blindfolded to avoid the temptation.

To try and derail his one track mind, Rufus glances around the room, realizing it’s one of the Turk’s interrogation rooms. At least it’s private and nobody will disturb them, his embarrassment contained. It’s not much, but he’s searching for pluses to bolster himself with until they tire of taunting him.

His anger is cooling, the mystery of what the point of all of this was taking over his thoughts instead. Tseng isn’t the kind of man to go this far just for entertainment’s sake, so Rufus knows that whatever this lesson was for, it is important. He’s so mentally worn through right now though that nothing is coming to mind at all.

Then it hits him like a slap. Tseng has been bothering him about hostage training, for at least the past month. Rufus has been avoiding it, as he has so little free time and doesn’t want to waste the little he does have on anything that isn’t completely necessary. Also, he’s been trying his hardest to spend as little time as possible near Tseng since he worked out how he felt about the man, and training usually involved far too much touching.

Rufus’ head tilts back as he glares at the roof and grumbles around the gag. _Seriously, all of this just to make a point?_ It’s so very Tseng that he should have seen it coming a mile away.

“Think someone just got a clue.”

Rufus would glare at Reno for that if he could be bothered moving right now… and if it wasn’t completely accurate.

When he feels somebody lay their hands on his knees, Rufus does tilt his head back forward to look though. He can’t hide the shock when he finds Tseng kneeling before him. The Head Turk reaches up and removes the ball gag, even wiping away the saliva left on the blond’s chin with a handkerchief.

“Tell me what you think it is.”

“The training I wouldn’t do,” Rufus replies, voice rough as he pushes past his pride. “I get the point, I didn’t know what to do and I should have. I’ll stop avoiding it, alright?”

Tseng gives him a small, earnest smile, and it’s enough to capture Rufus’ attention fully. He’s so fucking handsome when he smiles that Rufus can’t breathe around the ache of want in his chest. When Tseng’s hands start to creep up his thighs, Rufus panics though, as he’s only got so much self-control. He doesn’t want Tseng to know he wants him and his body is about to react to all this touching in a way that will make it obvious in the pants he’s wearing.

Tseng’s hands stop as he takes in Rufus’ reaction, his smile slipping away. Rufus’ panic slips away with it, a look of confusion sweeping over his features. Why does Tseng suddenly look so disappointed?

“Reno, help me untie him.”

Rufus is still staring at Tseng as the older man looks away, eyes down on Rufus’ legs as he sits back on his haunches and starts to untie him. Reno sighs as he approaches, walking behind the blond to work on unbinding his arms. Once free, Rufus manages to pull his gaze away from Tseng, instead staring at his arms as he rubs out the stiffness.

“I brought you a change of clothes so you wouldn’t have to traverse the halls in your sleep wear. I’ll just go and get them,” Tseng murmurs, standing up. As he walks past Rufus he reaches out and runs a hand over his hair gently before exiting the room. Rufus freezes at the touch, and is still frozen moments later when Tseng returns with his clothes. “We’ll wait in the hall while you change, Sir.”

Rufus jerks out of his daze at Tseng’s voice, managing to nod before he hears the door close again. He’d forgotten Reno was still in the room until the redhead moves, startling him a little.

“Ya not the only one that needs ta get a fucking clue,” Reno mutters as he walks past Rufus and out the door.

***.***


End file.
